


The Winning Hand

by ozsaur



Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: Community: oz_magi, Gift Fic, Holiday Fic Exchange, M/M, Oz Magi, manipulative keller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-08
Updated: 2010-01-08
Packaged: 2017-11-01 17:28:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/359427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozsaur/pseuds/ozsaur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Claire being vile, Chris manipulating, Toby figures things out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Winning Hand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vippie_1](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=vippie_1).



> Written for vippie_1 for Oz Magie 2010. Stories for this gift exchange are posted on January of the following year.

"Just tell the bitch that if she doesn't come up with either the money or a carton of cigarettes, I'll introduce her to the sole of my boot."

"Keep your voice down," Donavon hissed, opening the gate and ducking his head through to look up and down the next corridor. Jesus Christ, nothing could be more conspicuous.

Heaving a sigh, Claire grabbed Donavon's shoulder and yanked him back. "Nobody's going to hear me. There won't be anyone around until the next bell, and that's not for another hour."

Donavon was twitchy as hell and kept glancing around as if he expected the warden to pop through the keyhole of the gate at any minute and yell 'Surprise!'. On her worst day, she'd been a better hack than this fucker. But he had his uses.

She reached for the waistband of her pants.

"Look, Claire-- "

"I've had a bad day. Don't make it any worse. Get over here."

She could feel her pants puddle around her ankles, not that she could see her ankles any more. Donavon's belt buckle clicked as he worked it open. Grasping the bars of the gate, Claire held on tight. He better give her a good hard ride, or she was going to make him give that bitch in Cellblock H a beatdown instead of doing it herself.

 

Toby was here. Finally.

Chris knew that taking the direct approach with Toby was a bad idea. Sure, he liked it when Chris was up front, and some version of honest he could handle, but demanding, ordering, or hell, even asking nicely could make the contrary bastard do the exact opposite of what Chris wanted.

He'd had weeks to plan exactly how he was going to play this meeting, ever since he'd told Toby the results of the paternity test with Dr. Nathan and Sister Pete sitting right there, judging him. All of them judging him.

He couldn't afford to lose his temper, especially with Toby playing the woman scorned. Four marriages to three different women, and Chris knew every step of that dance. He just had to make sure to change his steps this time because the stakes were way too high for him to lose.

The whole plan could be blown without a word being spoken. All he wanted to do was grab Toby, shove him against the wall and kiss the living daylights out of him. He wanted to muss that expensive suit and ruffle Toby's perfectly cut and styled hair.

His scent wafted on the air, his cologne subtle with a faint citrus tang, not too strong the way some men seemed to bathe in it. It was so different from the stench of greasy food, dirty socks, and rage that permeated the walls that it was almost a shock to his senses. Everything about Toby after not seeing him for so long was like waking up from a bad dream.

Chris had to turn his back to keep Toby from seeing the hunger in his eyes.

"I'm here. What do you want?"

Toby was trying hard for cool indifference, a little too hard. That helped bolster Chris's confidence. Without looking at Toby, Chris sat down at the table, folding his hands in front of him. It took several minutes for Toby to make up his mind, but he finally sat down across from Chris.

"I don't know how you managed to get through the blocks on the phone, but the entire firm would appreciate it if you would stop calling."

It hadn't been easy getting into Glynn's office to use his private line, but he'd been desperate. And Toby was here now, so it was worth the hole blown in his bank account.

"You wouldn't talk to me, Toby. What I have to say is important and there's no one else I can trust."

Toby still looked suspicious, but now he was curious too. Good. But he could still lose Toby if he didn't play this perfectly.

"I know you're angry with me, and you have every right to be." He didn't, the slut, but that was beside the point. "But there is someone you need to consider. Someone more important than either of us."

Toby sighed and looked away. Fuck, he was already slipping up. Was he being too dramatic? The next part was really going to push him over the top. He could only hope that it got Toby's attention.

"We need to think about the baby."

Toby's mouth dropped open. "We?"

"I've been thinking about him all these months. Have you?"

"No. I've been trying not to think about you and that-- " His mouth became a tight line, as if to keep the words behind his teeth.

Chris didn't want to let his hope rise, but he couldn't help it. Toby still felt something for him, even if it was anger, and even if he was fighting it.

"She doesn't matter. The baby is the only thing that matters right now. I can't get any information about him. It wont be too long before he's here, and then what? What's going to happen to him?"

Toby sat and studied Chris for a long moment. Chris let his genuine worry and fear show through. Toby didn't need to know that it wasn't for the baby.

"Chris... " Toby hesitated. "You always said you were glad you didn't have children."

"That was before. Now I have a baby on the way. Mine. A son." Chris put the tiniest emphasis on the word 'son' knowing that it would hit Toby right in his tender underbelly. Gary was never far from Toby's mind. When Toby's shoulders slumped, Chris knew he had played that card just right.

"You want me to find out what Howell's plans are for the baby," Toby said.

"I need to know if she's going to keep him, and if she is, I want to fight it. I don't want her, or anyone in her family, getting their hands on my kid." Chris nearly fumbled his next line. It was the most important card he held and he needed to lay it down perfectly. "I need to know if she wants to give him up for adoption. I want him to go to a nice family. A good family."

He could have laid it on thicker, but Toby had already caught the idea. That too clever brain was already parsing through all the possibilities and ending up exactly where Chris wanted it.

"I'll see what I can find out."

 

What the hell could Tobias fucking Beecher want with her? Obviously, it had something to do with the organism that tap danced on her bladder all night, and with Chris 'the love of his life' Keller, but what?

Claire sat down in the orange plastic chair, then winced. Fucking hemorrhoids.

When Beecher finally strolled in with his leather briefcase and his prissy wire-framed glasses, Claire rolled her eyes at him. "Well, look who's come up in the world. They ought to name a TV show after you: From Prag to Riches."

Beecher grimaced as he set his briefcase down and sat in the chair across from her. He eye-balled her, wanting to see the size of her gut while trying not to show how interested he was. Then his gaze fell on her can of Coke and his brow wrinkled in disapproval, an expression she'd become all too accustomed to since the life-sucking monster had taken up residence in her abdomen. Well, long before she got preggers, but now it was a different kind of disapproval, and she resented the hell out of it instead of reveling in it.

Picking up the Coke, Claire made a loud sucking noise as she put the can to her lips, took a deep swallow, then smacked her lips together when she was done. Beecher's disgust was far more to her liking than the disapproval.

"So, what the fuck do you want? You're not a reporter, so I know you don't want an interview for FOX News." Claire's five minutes of fame had lasted exactly that: five minutes. She hadn't had a visitor in months.

He straightened his shoulders and slipped on his lawyer mask. "I'm here on behalf of Christopher Keller."

Claire laughed. She held up her hand and wiggled her pinky finger. "What does Mr. Winky Dink want?"

The mask slipped and his loathing shone through, sweeter than any candy. Yanking Beecher's chain was going to be a fun way to relieve the tedium.

"Mr. Keller wants to know what decision you've made for his unborn child."

"Huh. Do you call every man who's cock you've sucked Mister?"

"Let's cut the crap, Howell. What are you going to do with the baby?"

"I haven't thought about it." And she hadn't. She'd never thought beyond getting the damned thing out of her body. Even when reporters had asked, she'd blown them off, turned the interview to a much juicier topic.

Beecher's expression sharpened. "So, you haven't made any decisions yet."

"Nothing that can't be changed."

Claire took a sip of her Coke to give herself time to think. She knew damn well Keller was no more interested in the thing expanding her waistline than she was, so there had to be a catch. If she had only one guess, the catch was Beecher. If Keller thought there was something in this situation for Beecher, then there had to be something for Claire, too.

"You have a number of options," Beecher said.

Claire studied Beecher, his expensive suit, haircut, silk tie, the trendy glasses, everything. The man had money. Keller didn't have shit. Keller didn't want the little care package he'd left her and neither did she. But maybe... maybe Beecher did. She could work with that.

Setting the Coke aside, Claire leaned forward. "Why don't we discuss those options?"

 

For the second time in a week, Toby drove away from a prison. Driving away from Chris, Toby had known that Chris was playing him. He'd have to be an idiot not to.

Even knowing he was being manipulated didn't stop Toby from doing what was right. There was a baby involved, a little person who would arrive in less than two months. An innocent person who could end up being a victim in this whole mess. So he had agreed to talk to Howell.

The situation turned out to be both better and worse than he expected. Better because he wouldn't have to fight Claire or her family for the baby. Worse because Howell hadn't done a thing to insure the baby's health or future, and now he would have to deal directly with her.

Oh, joy. That's exactly what he wanted to do with his own bright, shiny, new future.

 

Giving someone a beatdown while pregnant wasn't easy. That's why the short length of pipe that Donavon had smuggled in for her came in handy.

Stepping back, Claire sneered at the sobbing woman on the floor with her arms curled protectively around her head. Why did these bitches persist in thinking that just because she was as big as a whale, she couldn't handle her business? She deserved a beating just for being that stupid.

Claire lifted her arm, then brought the pipe down hard across the woman's ribs. That's when she felt something give in her back. There was a wrenching pain, then a great whoosh of wetness flooding her pants and spilling to the floor.

"Well, fuck."

 

Toby looked up from the filing cabinet as one of the secretaries rushed in.

"Mr. Beecher, the hospital just called. It's time."

 

She didn't want to do this. Donavon, the councilors, and every one of those pregnant bitches in the maternity wing of the prison had said she'd feel differently once she held it. Beecher stood beside her bed, the thing in his arms all wrapped in a pretty blue blanket. He kept staring at it, and rocking it, looking like a complete moron.

Picking up the TV remote, she clicked it off. "All right, fine. Give it here."

Claire held the body in her arms, shocked at how light it felt. She'd gained fifty fucking pounds for this?! Her belly shook like one of her Aunt Trudy's jello molds, her insides felt like they'd been rearranged by a blender set on frappe, and her tits were so tender that the feather light weight of the blue bundle made he want to toss it back to Beecher like a football. The bundle quivered and made a little sound.

"You're holding him too tight. Loosen up a little," Beecher said, as he hovered anxiously next to the bed. He was getting on her nerves. She looked around for something to hit him with, but there was nothing nearby. Damn, the lunch tray was way over there.

She loosened her arms and the bundle shifted away from her tits, which was a relief. Finally, she was going to get a look at the reason her family had disowned her, and why she'd ended up with her face on the cover of every tabloid, newspaper, and magazine all across the country, and why she'd ended up in prison. Hesitantly, she pushed the blanket away from its face.

Was that its face? She'd never held a newborn before, but still, the lopsided head couldn't be normal. The face shouldn't be squished like that, should it? The tiny hand curled against it's fat little cheek didn't seem right.

Everyone had told her she'd feel differently once she held it in her arms. Some kind of maternal instinct would kick in and she'd fall in love with it.

All those cocksuckers were full of shit, just like she'd thought.

Her life in ruins, nine months of walking around with hemorrhoids on top of hemorrhoids, and thirty-six hours of excruciating labor and this was all she had to show for it?

Oh, right. This and a cool quarter of a mil waiting for her in the bank when she got out of the joint.

She was tempted to yank Beecher's chain and pretend she wanted to keep it, but she was tired and wanted her lunch. She was sick of his face, anyway.

"Here, take it. Show me where to sign."

She was free of the parasite now, and in five years, she'll be free to fuck off to Mexico. There were a lot of hot men down there.

 

"Move your ass, Keller. You've got a visitor."

Chris got up and followed the hack, ignoring the curious looks directed at him as he left Em City. Toby was the last person to visit him, and that was nearly two months ago. Since then, there had only been a letter, fine paper with an official letterhead from Toby's law firm, stating that Toby had held a meeting with Howell.

That was it. No other news from Toby, or the law firm, or Howell, and Chris thought he might go out of his mind. The hardest promise he'd ever kept was not trying to contact Toby, but it was worth it. It had to be Toby waiting for him.

The hack didn't lead him to the visitor's area. Chris felt his heartbeat pick up when they turned down the corridor leading to the family room. When they got there, the hack pulled out his keys to open the door.

"Wait. Give me a minute."

Chris put a hand on the wall to steady himself; the relief was overwhelming. He took a deep breath and stared through the big picture window that looked into the room.

There were two other families in the room, each in their own corner, but Chris only had eyes for Toby. And Toby only had eyes for the tiny person he cradled in his arms. Toby was completely besotted.

With the hack standing behind him, and Toby's gaze on the baby, Chris felt safe enough to let some of his triumph show through. His smile spread so wide, it almost cramped his cheeks. He hadn't smiled like that in years. In spite of the hack's impatient sigh, Chris stood there and let himself enjoy his victory.

Since Toby was here with the baby, it meant that Howell had signed the adoption papers. Toby would do the right thing, the responsible thing. He'd raise the baby as his own, but he would make sure the child would know his biological father. Chris now had a connection to Toby that was far more tangible than the passion neither one of them could conquer. Toby was tied to him now. Forever.

END


End file.
